I shall not let you fall
by Mingulay
Summary: Oneshot: Fawkes to the rescue. As usual, I should say. May contain traces of Fluff.


So here's me joining the Club. I have been writing FanFiction before, but that was quite some time ago. Now this is my first attempt after a very long hibernation and my first attempt at Fallout3 at all, so I'd like very much to know if I manage to keep the folks I (ab)use in character. In addition to this I am no native speaker, so any cues regarding spelling, grammar and strange expressions are every much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this one. All reviews welcome!

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><p><strong>I shall not let you fall<strong>

He had followed suit.

Ever since he had found me outside Raven Rock, he had followed me loyally and unquestioningly, had followed me through the Wastes, into the ruins of D.C., and finally here, into an ambush of a large group of raiders. He had followed suit, and had followed me into his death.

His own, with mine to follow. I could hardly think any more, but that much was clear to me even then, as I was contemplating the phrase: All things must come to an end. Yes, even our own existence, although this is something that most human minds shy away from. But the end had now come for me, there was no denying it. If only it wouldn't hurt so much. If only there was something I could take comfort in.  
>Maybe there was. His pain was over already, that much at least I could be sure of.<p>

And it would soon be over for me, too. I could feel it, deep in my bones, down in my cramping belly, thrumming with my heartbeat growing slower and slower. I was about to die, and it seemed ridiculous, as my supplies, stimpacks, Rad-Away and water, were no more than a couple of feet away.  
>Well. And a drop of maybe fifty yards down a cliff, so they might as well have been on the moon.<br>It was, strangely, more annoying than terrifying, as I kept thinking about the water mostly, until the lack of it would have driven me insane had I not felt so weak. The thirst seemed to be the worst part about dying, and it kept getting worse until I had the feeling that I could die in peace if only I could get a sip of water first. But the sun had no mercy, and I was alone. Alone because there, a couple of feet and a drop of fifty yards away, the cliff that had broken off under the impact of the mininuke lay in heaps of cracked boulders. And down there, among these boulders covering my supplies, he lay as well. The cliff had broken off under him, the avalanche had torn him away, and his scream had died out cold.

I was, in a way, glad I couldn't see him. But on the other hand, death would have been so much easier had I just fallen down with him. I would have broken my neck, had been crushed, and it would have been over in a matter of moments. Whereas now, I was roasting in the hot sun, unable to move a limb, burning from radiation and heat, and alone. Utterly alone. The raiders had left, maybe to see what supplies they could scrounge, leaving me here for dead.

If only I was dead already!

I closed my eyes, trying to block out everything else but my own slowing heartbeat, but my hearing remained stubbornly accurate. It was only then that I realized that I did indeed hear something, a scraping sound, a grunt, a huff of breath, a husky, whispering grumble. A sound that pumped new adrenalin into my wrecked body, and suddenly, the thought of dying of radiation seemed much more preferable to being eaten alive by whatever was coming to find me now. How far away was the cliff, exactly? Could I drag myself there in time, throw me down to prevent being devoured? I managed, with a great effort, to open my eyes and lift my head a bit, I was already lying on my stomach, a lucky thing as I wouldn't have been able to turn around. Before me was the edge of the cliff, if I could only drag myself a few inches…

But the sound I heard was coming _from there_. Some… thing was climbing up the face of the cliff, any moment now, and it would see me, lying helpless and defenseless on my belly, unable to move a limb. No. There was no easy way out. Frozen in horror like the rabbit caught by the snake, I stared at the edge in dreading anticipation of what I would see, what it was that was coming for me. Could deathclaws climb?

But the hand that finally appeared over the edge was no giant-clawed, reptilian paw, neither was it human nor ghoulish in appearance. It was covered in blood, the nails broken off, the knuckles scraped. And it was large and green. It was… large and green…

And it was followed by a second one, searching and grappling for a solid grip. My head swam, and had I not already been lying flat on my stomach, I would certainly have collapsed now. Another angry grunt came from the cliffedge, and the two big, green hands pulled up a matching head, with angry red stripes of raw flesh trailing scraped-off skin adorning the left side of his face.  
>Yet another heave and groan, and he was lying on his stomach on the cliff edge, his whole body battered and bruised, scraped raw and bleeding. But alive. He was alive. He sat up with another groan and spat out a small bundle he had held clenched between his teeth.<br>"Meg?" His voice was even hoarser than usual, hardly recognizable. But never had I heard a sweeter sound, as it meant I wouldn't have to die yet.  
>"Still breathing", I managed, and then my head slumped down again from exhaustion.<br>"Hold… still." He leaned over, and I saw what was in the bundle: Two packs of Rad-Away and a couple of stimpacks.

I hardly felt the needles.

Elated though I was at the fact that I wasn't going to die yet, I didn't fail to notice how slow and strained each of his movements was, and as my mind cleared somewhat, I realized that it was because he tried to avoid using his legs at all. And as I looked closer, I realized that his right leg was hardly more than a mangled mess of torn muscles and shattered bones. I swallowed.  
>"Fawkes…" I whispered. "Your leg…"<br>He shrugged with a grunt. "Let's get you away from the radiation up here."  
>"And where to?" I looked around; we were on high, flat ground and northwards, west and east was a plain as far as the eye could see. Behind us, to the south, was the sheer drop of fifty yards' worth rocky outcrop. It would be a day's walk or more to find a way down around that cliff.<br>"Down, of course. That's where the supplies are. To an extent."  
>"But…"<br>"No other way", he snarled through clenched teeth, and looking around again, I could only agree. But faced with the drop before me, I realized that two packs of Rad-Away and two stimpacks had maybe saved my life for now, but that I was a far cry from being only halfway restored to attempt such a climb. Looking me over, Fawkes realized this, too.  
>"That was all I could manage in a hurry", he said. "Hold on to me, I shall get you down."<br>"But you're wounded yourself…" I feebly protested.  
>"Well." He slowly pushed himself, legs forward and on his belly, over the edge. "I made it up, I make it down again."<br>I didn't speak out my thoughts that most certainly, he would make it down again, one way or the other. But what choice did I have? And was dying in the blink of an eye after a fall not better than dying of thirst and radiation sickness up here in the baking sun? I swallowed and nodded. "Thanks…", I began, but he grunted.  
>"Thank me when we made it down, Megan."<p>

I took a deep breath and nodded, then realized that the only way to hold onto him during this climb was to lock my arms around his neck and cling to his back like a monkey baby to her mother. I sincerely hoped I would be able to hold on that long.  
>As he began the painfully slow descend, I closed my eyes, avoiding looking down at all costs. I felt him grapple for a hold, slip with his left foot and heard him hiss with the pain. Pressing my face against his shoulder, I suddenly realized that I could hear his heart beat, fast and hard, but strong and steady. He might be seriously wounded, I suddenly realized, he might be in a hell of a pain, but he was strong, god he was so strong, he would get me down to safety. He would not let me fall. And suddenly, I was able to take a deep breath and relax a little, hang on to him without half choking him, and felt the muscles bunch and relax in an almost soothing rhythm under my cheek.<p>

The he halted, and I cautiously opened my eyes.

"A drop of three foot or so", he said hoarsely. "Let go and step aside, I have to let go, and I don't want to crush you."  
>I nodded, took a deep breath and let go. I landed on my feet, all right, but my legs gave way under me instantly. I managed to roll aside and remained where I was, lying on my back in the shade of the cliffside, panting from pain and exhaustion as if it had been me carrying him down the cliff and not the other way round.<br>I watched him let go, but if he had misjudged the distance or landed on a rock that slipped away under him, he twisted his ankle as he landed and fell onto his mangled right leg. I braced myself with clenched teeth, but the cry of pain I braced myself against never came. My heart skipped a beat and began to race as if trying to break free from my ribcage, because the awful silence I heard instead was far, far worse than any cry.  
>"Fawkes?" I began feebly, realizing that my voice sounded like that of a little child about to bawl for his mama. He remained still.<br>I summoned all the strength I could and dragged myself forward so that I came to lie beside him. "Fawkes?" I touched his neck, searching for a pulse. I found none.  
>Panic struck me so hard that I could make it onto my knees and grab for the torn supply bag lying beside him, and I jammed the last two remaining stimpacks simultaneously right into his chest. "Stay calm, Meggy", I told myself in a voice that was everything but. "Stay calm; he must have a pulse somewhere. He can't be dead. Not from a two foot drop." I tried the other side of his neck: nothing. I tried the wrist: nothing. Running my hands through my hair, I took a deep breath, and furiously went over every lesson I remembered of my medical training back in the vault, listening to Dad's voice giving orders calmly and in a reassuring voice.<p>

"_Sometimes you can't find a pulse on someone who has passed out from shock, so weak is the heartbeat. Now, that doesn't mean they're dead. Don't panic, try again to find the pulse, and when you still can't find it, begin reanimation."_

I am not superstitious. I have never been, nor have I ever paid much attention to the bible verses my Dad had liked so much to quote. But now I needed all the help I could get, and for the first time in my life I prayed as I was frantically examining the lifeless body before me.  
>"Help me, Dad, please, help me... my friend is dying, and he saved my live, please, Dad, help me! Help me!" I closed my eyes, trying to imagine my father's face, his voice, his hands. Then I opened my eyes again and felt again for the pulse. Neck, wrist, neck again.<p>

Nothing.

I blinked, took another breath and counted the ribs until I found the right spot, pressing hard down with both hands, which didn't leave the slightest indention in his massive ribcage. I cursed and swore, and threw myself onto my hands with my full bodily weight. "One, two, three…" It was bloody hard work, even for one who hasn't just escaped death by a hair's breadth, and I was already I sweating and panting. Without thinking further, I pressed my mouth onto his, but the sheer effort of blowing some air into this ribcage left me not only gasp for breath but also fight a blackout. Red spots danced before my eyes as I took another round. "One… two… wake up you bastard! Breathe! Ugly, green monster! Breathe! Breathe, goddamnit!"

But then my strength, feeble as it had been with being only built up by two stimpacks, gave out on me and I collapsed right on top of him. I couldn't go on any more, my vision wavered, and I lay flat on his massive body, unable to move a limp. It was too much. There were no stimpacks left to restore me again, and I slowly felt myself sliding down from his breast, and hot tears burned in my eyes. I wasn't strong enough. He had been strong enough to save me, but I wasn't strong enough to save him. I made no further efforts to hold back my tears.

NO! I must not give up that easily, I told myself, I owed it to him not to give up as long as there was enough life in me to move and try. Summoning all my force of will, trying to get up again, I dragged myself into a sitting position holding onto his leg. And there, with my hand on his left thigh, I inadvertently pressed my fingers into the limp flesh near his groin, feeling a weak, rhythmic flattering under my fingers. A random memory fragment hit a working neuron, and the word Aorta femoralis sounded out inside my head along with some other random medical details I made no sense of at the time. But there it was, his pulse. It was weak and flattering, irregular, but there. And then I heard him take a hoarse, cramped breath.

Then he opened his eyes, lifted his head and after a moment he needed to gather some awareness of himself and his surroundings, he groaned: "What… was it needful for you to kick me in the ribs on top of everything?", and let his head fall back again.

But I, being unable to talk, being unable to do anything else but sob from sheer relief, just threw myself across his body and wept, howling like a wounded dog as if he had just died for good on me and not woken up. A slightly detached part of my mind looked at me and diagnosed several layers of shock and minor dehydration leading to a fit of hysterics, but I couldn't help it.

After a time span I could not measure but that couldn't have been more than a few moments, I felt him clumsily pat my back. "Meggy", he rasped, "…can you… could you maybe find the strength and try to do something about my leg? I can already feel the bone begin to knit, and I would hate to have it healed as it is now…"  
>I sniffed and hastily straightened up, wiping my hands across my face and nose, trying to get my composure back somewhat, but I felt as shaky as if my body was made of loosely piled styrofoam. "Yes." I tried to push all feelings of tiredness aside. "Sorry for bawling like that." I swallowed hard and with teeth gritted and all my force of will managed to set the broken bones straight, while he was grunting and cursing with the pain I caused him.<br>The human mind is a true miracle, when it comes to work long past exhaustion. If you have breath enough to moan and complain, you've got enough breath to go on. And moan I did, I cursed and swore and whimpered and cursed again, just to keep my attention off my own hurting limbs, and somehow, I managed not to collapse, although I was constantly fighting the tears that my tiredness forced into my eyes. But there was no choice. If I didn't go on, he would die, or be left crippled and lame. Giving up wasn't an option.

The sun had long set, and the coldness of the night had spread out over the Wastes when I finally had finished dressing his wounds and finding the last of the water bottles that had survived the crash. I felt so weary by now that I was swaying and my vision blurred, and I sat heavily down and buried my face in my hands, shaking from coldness and exhaustion. Then I slowly sank to the ground and rolled myself into a ball on the hard-packed dirt, too tired even to weep, when I heard him softly call out behind me.

"Meg. You're freezing yourself to death there, tired as you are. Come over here, even though we have no blankets, we can share a bit of warmth."  
>But I simply was at the end of my tether now, I couldn't move any more had my life depended on it. After a moment, I heard him grunt and drag himself across the ground to my side.<br>I turned over and realized that despite the coolness of the night, his body radiated heat like a stove. As I carefully settled down on his left side he offered me his arm as a pillow, pulling me close to him and his warmth. As I snuggled a little closer, feeling strangely embarrassed and comforted at the same time, I could feel his heart again, beating strong and steady under my cheek. We were alive, both of us. Against all odds, despite all efforts of fate or bad luck, we were both alive.

And as his left arm closed a little tighter around me, I could feel his heartbeat pick up speed, and, as I realized, mine followed suit. Watching in a slightly detached state of mind I saw my hand, shivering violently, move up as if it had its own will and carefully come to rest again on his chest. And I watched as he lifted his right arm across, closing his hand around mine.

And his heart beat faster.

And mine followed suit.


End file.
